


i think your love would be too much.

by sunbeans



Series: bloom. [2]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben Solo Needs A Hug, F/M, I'm So Sorry This Is Late, Modern AU, idiots to lovers: the saga continues, like a month or two late but depression happened, tw for panic attacks, yeehaw it's another bloom update!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24402220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunbeans/pseuds/sunbeans
Summary: It should be strange, how easily they fit into each others lives --- like they had done this before, some other time.---the house party update to my twitter fic, bloom!
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: bloom. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1649344
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	i think your love would be too much.

**Author's Note:**

> ooooooooh boy, this is like, several months late but i have just not had the spoons to DO STUFF!!!! anyways here's' the house party update, still not beta'd but i tried my best!!!! i'm not sure if i wanna keep doing the twitter fic approach because i'm an Android Baby and fake text convos are hard to make on my phone :( but i'll keep you posted on whatever i decide! please enjoy! <3
> 
> also psssstttttt this is from my fic over at @sunbeanery on twitter uwu

When he accepted Kaydel’s invite, Ben had to make a game plan. It would be fine -- it was probably just a small gathering, he could wait for Rey to show up, deliver her books, and the entire, unpleasant venue of a party would only be mildly uncomfortable at best. He can’t help but daydream sometimes ---- about seeing her again, if he stands too still and his mind gets too quiet, filling with idle, saccharine thoughts of a hopeless romantic. He wonders about little & big things -- & each just leaves him counting down the minutes until the end of his shift that day. ( He closes up early when his daydreaming leaves a batch of cinnamon rolls slightly burnt --- too browned, but still edible, retrieved before they began to char --- or God forbid, reduced to charcoal. It’s the first time Ben’s faced with the gravity of his situation --- still so burnt from the last time he _tried,_ and yet still so stupidly, horrendously, _fatally_ soft. ) 

( Or, maybe he needed to stop trying to ascertain the meaning of life in burnt cinnamon rolls, and he’s hopelessly gone for a girl he met a little over two weeks ago. )

Because after that day, he could set his watch by her -- how she’d come in and order the same apple-cinnamon latte that he suggested once, and the way Rey’s eyes _lit up_ when she first tasted it is still seared into his memory. Her choices of sweets vary, but she _always_ gets the spiced orchard latte. ( He’s learned to have it ready for her when she comes in. ) Maybe it’s why he can’t seem to _just pick a stupid shirt_ for once in his life --- why he finally has to settle for a nice, slightly baggy black sweater and some jeans just to leave the damn house. _It’d just be a quick visit,_ he reasoned as he left Andromeda to her own devices, books tucked under his arm.

“Don’t look at me like that.” 

Andromeda tilted her head --- half-pleading, half-inquisitive, like she could see directly into his soul with her chocolate eyes and alert, fluffy ears. 

“It’s just a quick errand, Andy.” Still, he can’t help but drop into a crouch at his door, running his fingers through the dark locks of her fur as the tension ebbed from his very bones.”Hey-- when I get home, we’ll take an extra long walk. _And_ we’ll get you some treats from the pet shop. Okay?”

And even if she was reluctant to let her human go, Ben swore she understood.

( It’s a good thing he wears all black, because even the lint roller he keeps by the door looked rough around the edges by the time he left. )

* * *

He only realizes that he missed a few slivers of fluff when he finally makes it -- a fresh batch of non-burnt cinnamon rolls tucked under his arm. It’s a preemptive apology for just stopping by and ducking out ; a shameless bribe of his cousin’s favorite dessert.

... or, it would have been. Apparently, Ben didn’t get the memo that everyone and their aunt would be here.

Anxiety coils in his muscles as all saccharine daydreams he held on the way here are replaced with _survival_ as he wades his way through the large crowds, unable to string anything together more that short, terse replies and quiet apologies as he asked where his cousin was. He finds her in the kitchen with his uncle after what seems like centuries, practically spat out of the crowd of _people, people, too many people & bodies & noise _& the cinnamon rolls are delivered. The box is battered, & so is he. He can’t utter anything more than a few pleasantries before his legs & brain are screaming at him to run again.

Poor Kaydel is oblivious--- and his panic is briefly curtailed when the elder Calrissian touches his nephew’s shoulder. 

“You okay, starfighter?” The nickname comes so _easily_ from him --- still regal as Ben remembers him, even if he has a few more greys than he remembers & Uncle Lando leans a bit more on his cane. He can only shake his head, and Lando grants him a nod in return. “ Kinda figured. You looked like a ghost in there. You know I won’t tell the girls more than they need to know, _but_ I still expect to see you over here for Sunday brunch.”

“What, so you can kick my ass in Blackjack again?” It’s only a little easier to breathe around him -- but that’s just part of his uncle’s charm, he thinks, as Lando laughs & claps his shoulder.

“No, to catch up with my little starfighter!” He pauses, thoughtful, but the twinkle in his eye returns when he oh-so- _thoughtfully_ adds, “Kicking your ass in Blackjack is just a bonus.”

( Sometimes, he thinks that moving out of Takodana did him more harm than good --- because how bad could this town have been, if he so easily forgot how many people cared? He could’ve sworn he heard Gwen and Hux’s voices in the kitchen, Gwen loud & frantic as she asks _why the HELL did I just see my little brother in a house party, scared out of his damn mind?!_ )

( Other times, he tries to make a break for the door and gets stopped by some asshats that never evolved past high school. )

Sometimes, his anxiety sneaks up on him --- like a Galaxy Wars lightsaber piercing his chest, a calamitous crash & sudden surge that leaves him struggling to breathe, to keep himself above water, from giving into the panic & the urge to _run, run, run & never think twice. _

His former classmate’s taunts don’t reach his ears, either way --- Ben barrels through them, too tall & broad for anyone to stop even if he struggles against the white-water rapids of _people, noises, apologies from him & indignant yells from everyone else & the tears that blur his vision --- _

He doesn’t know when fighting to get out of the house ceases to be an uphill battle --- it _feels_ like there’s twice as many people as there should be, _feels_ like everything’s suffocating & the fresh air he practically gasps for is nothing more than a panicked fever-dream.

Ah, but the universe is funny sometimes --- & for the second time, he finds himself crashing into Rey.

( This time, he’s the one that falls, knees kissing the pavement & calloused palms not faring any better. )

* * *

Honestly, Rey debated showing up tonight. She had a date with Galaxy Wars Volume 8, _The Final Jedi,_ because what the hell else would tide her over while waiting for _The Return of Starchaser?_ Nothing, thank you _very much,_ because her movie nights for one were the closest thing to self-care that she allowed herself to have. 

It’s not that she doesn’t like working for Han--- it’s that _Han’s_ more worried about how he practically had to ban her from the shop on her days off. Being _idle_ was never something she liked, but the elder Solo was dead set on Rey having the weekend to herself --- half days on Fridays, emergencies only on Saturdays, and absolutely _no work on Sundays._ Because _that,_ as Han so eloquently put it, was his extended family’s Sunday brunch, and his wife would have his hide if either of them missed it. ( Because of _course_ Rey was invited, & of _course_ she was welcome to eat as much as she liked, & of _course_ she was family & always had a home with them. )

She learned very quickly that the Skywalker family never limited itself to blood, & it went so much farther & deeper than blood ever could. It was the way old Ben and Anakin would joke and bicker about their time with the Royal Air Force , how Siri & Padme would shake her head at their husbands and instead introduce Rey to the rest of their family. The Kenobis were so woven with the Skywalkers that they may as well be from the same family tree, & Rey never thought that she’d go from having _no family_ to an entire ranch full of them. 

But this was her life since Siri and Ben pulled her from the system, and it’s… it’s been _good._ Wonderful, even ---- like a dream she’s still so sure she’s supposed to wake up from. 

And now, _Ben’s_ back. Leia and Han’s son, _the boy she’s heard so much about,_ is somewhere at this party. The same boy, actually, that caught her with his earth-stained hands and worried more about _her_ than the plants he dropped, who didn’t see her Resistance patch and immediately back up by two steps & a good meter. And even if she _rationally_ knows he can’t be that much older than her, there was something so boyish & _charming_ about how he couldn’t stand up to his full height, or how he kept trying to blow a strand of hair from his eyes, or how he was always fidgeting with something ----

Ugh, she _really_ needs to get a hold of herself. He just moved back, and Kay said he needed _friends._

Still, she thinks, as fate twists & now Ben’s’ the one running into _her,_ she can’t say she wasn’t looking forward to seeing him again.

The pissed frat boys that are trying to barrel down Lando’s driveway are another story entirely. She doesn’t pay them any heed, though -- crouching down next to him in a not-so-subtle display of the _Resistance_ logo emblazoned across her official jacket. 

There were two rules people knew about the Resistance members: First and foremost, they were family. _All of them._ From the top to the bottom, veterans to newbies, alumni to current, they were _family._ Secondly, and most important: _you don’t fuck with their family._ Mess with one Resistance member, and you’ll be messing with the entire family. _No exceptions._ Thankfully, i t’s enough to get them to think twice, slowly backing off as Rey’s focus remains on him. The same soft - hearted boy she met in Amidala’s is still there, but seized & chained by the _panic_ in his eyes screams _get me the hell out of here at all costs._

( Stars help her, she’ll never forget the look on his face when he realized what he had done, a fountain of messy apologies ushered from remorseful lips before she could fully assess what happened. )

“ --- did I hurt you? Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I----I didn’t _mean---_ “ Ben tries to take a breath between rushed apologies, like it’d never be enough if he stopped, but his breath _catches_ as Rey’s fingertips accidentally brush over his hand. It’s strange, how this actual mountain of a man became so _remorseful_ over something as an accidental collision, and Rey finds herself doing the same, for different reasons.

“ --- Ben, I’m fine --- hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to touch you--- “

“No, it’s fine, I---”

“ _Ben,_ ” she finally has to say, far too gentle for a stranger that held her in the sunlight two weeks ago, recommending books whenever she stopped in for an apple cinnamon latte before work. ( Rey swears up and down it’s the most wonderful thing she’s ever had -- a soft-spoken suggestion from the gentle giant after she bought and ate an ungodly amount of apple turnovers. And just like that, it became part of her morning. Just like _him,_ and his slowly-improving attempts of latte art as dark brows knitted to focus on his craft, or how he asked how the book was that she bought a few days ago. )

( It should scare her, how easily Ben fits into her routine. )

( It just fills her with a longing she can’t explain. )

And _stars help her,_ the fear in his eyes recedes slightly when she calls him back to earth, the mechanic swallowing the concern about her concerns for a man she barely knows & trying to shake herself out of apple-flavored daydreams before adding, “ I’m _fine._ Are you okay?” ( Why was he here without Andromeda, anyways ? Maybe he was just running over here quickly, or something _else,_ but the conspiracies have to wait. _They have to._ )

Her reply is a soft shake of his head, hands trembling as Ben reaches out to her --- hesitant, painstakingly slow, before stopping completely.

Rey doesn’t hesitate to offer hers.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

( To his credit, Ben doesn’t hesitate to take it, even if she’s now terribly, _acutely_ aware of how one of his gentle, floral-tending calloused hands easily eclipses hers in a painstakingly gentle embrace. )

* * *

They walk for a while after that -- Rey doing most of the talking, and Ben welcoming the distraction. She can’t tell you how far they walked, hand in hand under the street lights --- being with him was easy. _Too easy_ , for people who should be complete strangers.

Maybe it’s the way he isn’t afraid to provide a witty remark or two ( and he has _many ---_ so many that Rey can see why he’s every bit of his father’s son with his mother’s wit ) or how when he laughs at one of her jokes, it’s so sudden and _bright_ that it makes something in her chest _bloom,_ like the flowers he tends to with an expert hand. 

_I could love a boy like him,_ she thinks as they climb a hill behind the shop, Andromeda practically knocking Ben over once he opened the door to his apartment and nearly sending him down the old staircase in a tornado of dark fur. Now, here they sit, Andromeda lazily draped over her master as the three of them watch the stars. Ben’s feeling better now --- doesn’t look like he’s on death’s doorstep, and pointing out all the constellations to her. 

Maybe it’s too late, and she already does.

“Rey?”

His voice grabs her attention, as the young woman props her chin up to look at him. Sprawled out like this, it’s almost hilarious how much room he takes up--- and it’s breathtaking how the stars reflect in those expressive brown eyes of his. “Yeah?”

It’s then that he _blushes,_ red quickly blooming from the tips of his _endearingly dorky ears_ & blazing across the rest of his face. “...thank you. For, um, what you did. I---I don’t do well with, uh, parties. And crowds, if you couldn’t tell already.” He laughs --- awkward & forced, until he looks at her with such an open, _raw_ expression, vulnerable & shy that it makes her head swim.

“I…. it’s weird, don’t you think? I-I mean, a good weird --- that it’s so easy to just… just talk, y’know? I mean, obviously we’re talking right _now,_ but uh--”

“Don’t worry about it.” It comes out in a gentle hum, Rey finding it far too easy to look him in the eyes & finally tell him the phrase that’s been echoing through her brain.

“You’re not alone.”

It surprises her as much as it does Ben, his eyes wide as she tries her best to continue. “ I mean --- yeah, it’s… I like it. Talking to you, I mean. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun.”

( And maybe it’s the stars that blind her next, or his bright, toothy, unforgettable grin of his as the blooming feeling in her chest spreads at the mere sight. Maybe it’s the way that he offers her a gentle, earnest response that she still couldn’t shake -- even after he walked her home, considerate as ever. )

_"Neither are you,"_ he told her under the twinkling stars--- a memory that keeps her warm as she hugs a pillow to her chest that night, & chases her into dreams.

* * *

_“You’re not alone.” A man with dark hair holds her on an island as she shivers from the exposure to the elements. It’s a dream she has sometimes, usually influenced by one too many Galaxy Wars marathons, but this feels… real. Way too real._

_The stars above his head are familiar, but Rey can never make out his face. It’s like there’s a white, butterfly-shaped hole where a memory of a face should be, blurred out of recognition even if the voice is always the same._

_“Neither are you,” she murmurs, fingers lacing between his._

_Tonight, it feels truer than ever._

* * *

He’s saved in her phone as _Ben,_ the little green sprout next to his name catching her eye when she woke up the next day…. along with a few dozen missed texts from Kaydel, Rose, and Finn. 

Oh. She’s got some explaining to do, doesn’t she?

  
( Somewhere across town, there’s a flustered florist holding his phone like it’s made of glass, brown eyes unable to tear themselves away from the little sunflower next to _rey._ )


End file.
